


Moonlit Tides

by NyteRose_Shadowthorne



Category: The Sims (Video Games)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Mermaids, Original Character(s), Posted on WordPress, Romance, The Sims 4, Vampire/Mermaid Relationship, Vampires, simlit, vampire romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25492141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyteRose_Shadowthorne/pseuds/NyteRose_Shadowthorne
Summary: WARNING 18+: Adult language, violence, sensuality, and sexual contentSynopsis: No good deed goes unpunished.In the aftermath of rescuing an unconscious man from death at sea, mermaid Helena Thomas is banished from her tribe and left to fend for herself among the land-walkers. Lost and confused, a stranger’s act of kindness lifts Helena’s spirit, but there is something eerily familiar about him…
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Moonlit Tides

**_**Ohan’ali Beach, Sulani** _ **

**_**Two Years Ago** _ **

Dusk embraced the islands as the full moon rose, and tiny stars glittered in the clear sky. Smoke from a bonfire further down the beach spiraled into the air. The foam-topped waves crashed in the background as a tall, slim young man waded from the shallows and stepped onto the still-warm sand. He wore knee-length dark gray swim trunks with a black hibiscus print and carried a bright white surfboard under his left arm.

Ambrose Cornelius dropped the surfboard on the ground, shivering as a chill shot up his spine. _It’s nothing,_ he told himself and reached for a patterned beach towel. He dried his hair and cleared his ears of water. The faintest scrape of footsteps echoed, and another chill prickled his skin. _Someone’s playing a joke._ “Joke’s not funny!” he yelled angrily. _Just ignore it._ Ambrose slung the wet towel over his shoulder and grabbed up the surfboard.

***

The scent of tropical flowers and salt perfumed the small, rocky cove near the beach’s west end. A shimmering swath of moonlight rippled as a head broke the surface. Helena’s skin was the color of alabaster with a pattern of pale blue scales and had a pearlescent sheen. Scalloped fins ran the length of her arms from wrist to elbow. Auburn tresses flowed to the mermaid’s waist; large, spiny ears protruded from her hair. Her bright turquoise-green eyes were shaded with coppery shadow and her lips a bronzed nude shade. Helena watched as the man paced up the beach. He fascinated her; it was rare for a Mer to take an interest in the land-walkers. She often snuck up to the cove- risking the tribal elders’ wrath- to watch him surf until sunset. A warm, fluttering feeling knotted her stomach every time she saw him; humans referred to it as a ‘crush.’ _Do I dare try to become part of his life?_ The thought swirled through her mind as three months’ worth of barely contained longing erupted. Her hand reached out, heart thudding loudly. _Do I dare?_

***

Ambrose shivered as a pocket of cold enveloped him and stopped dead in his tracks. He stared around, noting that the beach was deserted. No seagulls or other birds. No people save for him. _Something’s not right._ A knot of fear swelled in his gut. _Just get home,_ Ambrose told himself. _Keep calm and get home._ His steps quickened, and seconds later near-inaudible footfalls followed. Anger burned through the fear. “Fucking _punk,”_ he snarled and spun around. “I’m gonna kick your…”

Nobody was there.

Vise-like hands seized him from behind, and a hypnotic, Irish-accented voice slithered into his ear, “Well, well. Aren’t you a pretty one.” Ambrose squirmed and struggled, trying to break the man’s hold. He sniffed the air delicately as if smelling a fine perfume. “I can smell your fear,” he whispered, his aqua-blue eyes fading to blaze hellfire red and ashen skin shimmering in the dark.

“Let go of me, fucker,” Ambrose squeaked. “Let go, or you’ll be sorry…”

The Irishman laughed darkly. “Really, now?” He laughed again, harder. Then the mirth dropped like sour milk. “Time to die.” Ambrose screamed as the man struck and tore messily into his neck. Blood leaked down his arm and chest. An icy numbness slowly crept through his body and fogged his mind. He barely felt it when his attacker pulled away. “You’re too lovely to die,” the Irishman mused with a twisted smile. A wrist pressed against his lips, and Ambrose coughed weakly as crimson liquid dripped into his mouth. “Enough,” the man ground out after several heartbeats and hoisted his nearly-dead victim up. He hurled Ambrose into the sea and cackled. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

*** 

A loud splash caught Helena’s attention and panicked, searched for the source of the noise. To the east of the cove, a bloodstain floated on the surface. _No. No. NO!_ She dove into the depths and rushed towards her beloved…

*** 

Murkiness and water crushed around Ambrose as he sank deeper. A thin line of red and bubbles streamed from his mouth when he tried to cry out. His lungs burned, desperate for air. His eyes drooped shut. _I’m dying,_ Ambrose realized. _I’m dying._ He fell unconscious as a frigid tingling shocked through him…

*** 

…She grasped Ambrose under his arms and propelled them upward. Minutes later, the pair surfaced. Helena held him tight with one arm, swimming toward the beach. She dragged him out of the water, moonlight and shadows dappling the now-cool sand. He lay motionless, his skin pale and cold from the wet. Helena stared down at Ambrose, admiring the newly turned vampire’s soft, handsome features. Thick, silky black hair cut in an edgy style framed the right side of his face. The vampire’s left arm bore a tattoo of a scarlet cross surrounded by tribal-esque blackwork; on his right wrist a dark ankh. A long, curved scar from a surfing accident marred his right leg above the knee. Helena gently lifted Ambrose’s head and stroked his cheek, tears flooding her eyes. “Wake up,” she whispered. No response from the figure. The mermaid began to sing, the melody permeating the air with its haunting beauty…

***

…Ambrose’s ruby eyes cracked open, roused back to consciousness by the song that caressed his ears. The glimpse of the exquisite feminine face above him burned itself into the vampire’s memory. Ambrose’s hand moved to feebly hold hers. “Who…?” His eyes closed again.

*** 

Helena wiped her tears away and worked a loosened scale on the upper part of her tail free. She wrapped his fingers securely around the iridescent light blue scale and kissed his forehead. The mermaid slipped into the sea, and she turned to take one last, lingering look at her beloved. “Goodbye.”

“Seize her!” the deep, commanding voice of Kekoa Aukai boomed behind Helena. Two mermen and another mermaid, each armed with an intricately carved wooden shark-tooth spear and a shield, circled her ominously. Kekoa had long, wavy brown hair, an athletic build, and a shimmering coppery-orange gold tail. Darker copper scales detailed his tanned arms, hands, chest, and face. A thick gold bracelet and matching double armbands- the insignia of the captain of the tribal guard- adorned his left arm. Helena yelped in pain and struggled to free herself as the youthful merman with grayish-hued skin and an orange-patterned red tail roughly twisted her arms and bound them behind her back. The captain’s gaze zeroed in on Ambrose, and his lips curled into an enraged sneer. “You interfered with the land-walkers yet again.” The statement was punctuated with a vicious slap.

Fresh tears leaked from Helena’s eyes. “I couldn’t leave him to drown.”

Kekoa struck her once more, harder. “You should have let that _vampire filth_ die. Your actions won’t be overlooked this time.” The guard captain gestured abruptly at the ocean. “Take her to the elders.” The warriors and their prisoner disappeared into the waves.

***

The soft breeze caressing his face, Ambrose awakened and slowly sat up. _Where am I?_ A thick fogshrouded his mind. _Did I hit my head?_ He stared around; everything seemed so alive to his enhanced senses, and a strange thirst gnawed at him. Ambrose glanced down at his hand and uncurled the fingers one by one.

Resting in his palm, the shimmering scale seemed to smile up at him.


End file.
